


The First Ultrasound Video – Mycroft’s Point of View

by Blood_Sucker_1428



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Emotions, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Love, Pregnancy, Unplanned Pregnancy, mythea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-12
Updated: 2017-08-12
Packaged: 2018-12-14 11:13:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11781990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blood_Sucker_1428/pseuds/Blood_Sucker_1428
Summary: 200 Chapter special for “A First Time For Everything”. Chapter 193 from Mycroft’s POV.Much to Mycroft’s dismay, his partner and assistant is pregnant. Kids were never in the plan. He is torn between the life he wanted and supporting her. Anthea doesn’t make it easy when she comes in with a DVD of her ultrasound. He doesn't want to watch it but he was never one to turn down new information.Mythea.





	The First Ultrasound Video – Mycroft’s Point of View

**Author's Note:**

> This is the POV fic celebrating two hundred chapters of “A First Time For Everything”. How insane is that? We wouldn’t be here without an avid readership to keep me focused and dedicated. So thank you to everyone. I was a little sceptical when you all chose this chapter to do for the POV but I was pleasantly surprised by it. I altered the title to better suit it, too. I hope you all still like it. Please read, comment, and enjoy!
> 
> This is Chapter 193 of my Mythea fic “A First Time For Everything” written in Mycroft’s point of view rather than Anthea’s. It could be read without the original but I’d suggest not for back story reasons.
> 
> Disclaimer: Clearly I don't own Sherlock. The show is the baby of Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss, while Sherlock Holmes itself is the creation of Arthur Conan Doyle.

Mycroft didn’t need to look up to realise Anthea had returned to the office. He heard her wandering around in the room past his own. He heard the movement of the doorhandle that meant she was coming into the office. He heard the door creak open and felt dread in his stomach. Usually it was a pleasure to gaze upon Anthea’s face – at home or at work. That was before the announcement of the pregnancy. Now when he saw her he saw all his failures – past and present – mocking him.

_Congratulations Mycroft, you failed again._ It screamed at him.

_Isn’t that your whole life? Trying to keep something from happening and failing to do so?_

_Don’t even try this time, you’ve already failed before it’s even begun._

 He felt sick at the thoughts. That mixed with his adoration for the woman carrying the culmination of his failures, he was a wreck of emotions when he looked at her. He hated emotions, he didn’t know how to handle them, couldn’t handle them. Here he was, having to confront them to spend time with the only person he ever wanted to spend any time with.

He did look up though, because he couldn’t resist it. He couldn’t not know what Anthea looked like right now. He needed to know what happened. Curse him and his need for knowledge. He looked up from his work to look at her. There was a confidence in her walk that came out when she’d completed something successfully and felt proud about it. Her makeup was nearly flawless but that nearly gave away that she had patched it up. Tears then, but happy tears. That was it then. She had fallen in love with the culmination of Mycroft’s mistakes. His greatest accident was now something she held dearly.

He felt sick again as he looked back at his work. He should call the child a culmination of mistakes – that was failing the child in ways it did not deserve. A child should not come into the world with such heavy judgements and burdens on its shoulders, particularly not Anthea’s. The pregnancy was the culmination of mistakes. The child itself was just an accident. The child should not be burdened by a father who did not want a child and did not know how to raise one either. Anthea loved it and that meant… Mycroft’s time to look at her face was limited. Still he could not bring himself to look back up. It would be easier to talk while he looked at his work.

 “Hello.” He greeted. He turned to the last page of the document and signed it. He couldn’t quite remember what it was about. He’d need Anthea to check it later or read it again himself when she left the room. “Judging by the gait of your walk I trust all went well.” Well in the fact that she was afraid to feel nothing and clearly had. Well as in the child was well. Not well for Mycroft. None of this was good for Mycroft. Pushing these thoughts aside, Mycroft opened another document. He sensed Anthea stopping in the usual position past the chairs in front of the desk. She always stood there. If he should look closely enough Mycroft could probably make out where the carpet was faded from her heels scuffing it.

 “It did, thank you.” Anthea tried to answer professionally. Mycroft knew better. He knew she was practically glowing from the inside. Alice Clarke did not speak with suck pep in her voice. She was cool and sarcastic, not so bubbly. Bubbly meant excitement. Mycroft hummed in response, his vast vocabulary and quick wits failing him. He tried instead to keep reading the document and come up with something nice to say. It was so hard. What was there to say? “I brought you the DVD.” Anthea said something else instead.

DVD? Mycroft’s brain completely froze. His hands stopped where they were. DVD of the ultrasound? Photographic proof of another person sharing the same DNA pool that he might let down in one way or another? Proof of the one thing Mycroft was absolutely adamant he never wanted in his life? Mycroft’s eyes flickered up to look at the DVD case in Anthea’s hand.

Yes, there it was. Proof that Mycroft Holmes who hated babies more than he hated people had further ruined his own life. Proof that he’d created a life whose life would be lesser for the lack of a good father figure.

Mycroft looked down and stifled a groan in his throat.

He couldn’t do this.

He couldn’t watch that.

That was evidence of every wrong choice he had made and ever made.

That was evidence of everything he could never be.

That was evidence that he wasn’t going to get the peace he thought he’d get with Anthea. She was going to be gone from his personal life soon if he could not find a way to be a better person.

 “I don’t know, my dear.” He hummed, flipping a page with extra force. “I have a similar attitude to these as I do to weddings and funerals; you’ve seen one and you’ve seen them all.” That was true for those not in your family. He couldn’t care less about Hope or Rosie’s ultrasounds. Sherlock had been energetic even in the womb. Eurus had seemed so fragile and breakable. It was a better excuse than his actual reasons. Mycroft stopped again and looked up at Anthea, cocking his head to the side. “And as I recall, you agreed with me this morning.” He referred to her expecting the ultrasound to be just as boring as she had found Hope’s to be. Anthea crinkled her nose in that way she did. It was a small comfort at a time like now.

 “I did.” She agreed with him. “But as Jamie says; it’s different when it’s your own.” Mycroft felt his face drop as the words hit him hard. Yes, it was genetically his child, but that’s what he was afraid of. He never wanted children and Anthea’s child deserved so much more than what the Holmes family and legacy offered for them. Any child of Anthea’s deserved the world handed to them because that’s what Anthea deserved.

 “I doubt that applies here.” Mycroft muttered, trying to keep anything that sounded like grief or despair from his voice. “I appreciate your faith, however unfounded it may be.” Anthea didn’t even flinch. All she did was look him over as if trying to work out what was behind the walls. Then her lips pushed together into a knowing expression.

 “Yes, sir.” She answered. Anthea’s delicate hand slid the DVD onto an open spot on Mycroft’s desk. “But just in case you find yourself with some free time and some curiosity I’m going to leave it here.” Mycroft eyed the disc and his assistant with a mixture of fear and curiosity. It was like the snake tempting Eve with the forbidden fruit. He knew better than to take the bait but it was tempting because it was knowledge he didn’t have… and it was Anthea’s child. “No pressure, no judgement, no rush. If you feel lit it, it’s there, sir.” The temptress knew him too well. Putting no pressure on him and no expectations. It was like laying your diary open – of course he’d want to peak. But this was so full of emotions and he hated emotions. He couldn’t do them. This footage might be impossible for him. So he chewed his lip and hummed.

 “Anything else, Miss James?” He asked, having nothing else he could say.

 “Nothing else, sir.” She folded her hands together in front of herself. The discussion nearing its end, Mycroft immediately went back to work.

 “Then I believe you have some work to catch up on, my love.”

 “Very well, sir.” Mycroft could hear the smile on her lips. Oh, he must have called her love. She does that when he says that.

* * *

 

Curiosity got the better of Mycroft. Every time he looked down onto his desk there it was, the DVD, taunting him. It was begging to be watched. Anthea had tempted him well. After doing his very best to ignore its presence he eventually gave up. The genius sighed dramatically. He snatched up the case and opened it.

_Clarke Ultrasound_

Ah, there it was; written in permanent marker. The truth. The orphan was getting a family. That was very nice for her. Maybe Mycroft could find some comfort in that. He thumbed the writing, contemplating it in silence for just a few moments. It went into the disc tray of his computer.

The disc whirled to life, conjuring images upon his screen. Suddenly there it was. Footage of the life that he and Anthea accidentally brought into being. Mycroft leaned forward in his seat subconsciously.

He knew it was going to be little but…

_It was so little._

So tiny. It broke Mycroft’s heart in half to look upon the miniscule creature. Its little arms and legs were miniscule. He could imagine how microscopic its developing organs were.

He had thought Eurus looked breakable.

She had nothing on this.

This was it. This tiny thing was what was tearing the fractured remains of Mycroft’s already mutilated life apart. How could something that small be capable of such?

That is what happened when Mycroft let his love for Anthea get in the way. It made that tiny diminutive lifeform. It made something real and living and there was no taking that back. At least Anthea had solid proof of his affection for her now. Let’s see her try to doubt it again.

Then the noise started. The noise that shattered Mycroft’s heart into tiny miniscule pieces. The pain was so intense he doubted he’d ever be able to rebuild his heart again. He had to rest his elbows on the desk and cover his mouth with his hands just to keep himself in one piece.

Mycroft had wondered over its tiny heart and now he heard it. The small organ beating so hard and tremendously fast just to keep it alive. The thing was working overtime to come into being.

Oh, the pain in Mycroft’s chest. His eyes hurt to, and it hurt to breathe deeply.

The poor little thing. It was like a hummingbird, and it just wanted to live.

Look at it there. Look at it on the screen. It was so innocent and so pure. He was wrong before. It hadn’t caused trouble. This thing wasn’t living in blissful ignorance of the chaos it had wrought. No. If anything it was unaware of how the world had failed it. Mankind had failed to create a world perfect enough to be worthy of this wholesome, sweet little creature.

Of course it was Anthea’s child, it was already close to perfect.

What a beautiful natural disaster. What a chaotic gift. What a blessing onto Anthea and a curse onto Mycroft. Something perfect for Anthea to love for ever and something for Mycroft to fear ruining. Just like he’d ruined everything.

It was captivating. He wanted to look away and forget about the image in front of him and the constant rhythm playing through the speakers, yet he couldn’t. He couldn’t look away. It deserved an audience for all its hard work.

That little thing, it was already working so hard. It deserved only the best.

He couldn’t be what it deserved. It deserved the world…

 “Hello.” The light hum of Anthea’s curious voice interrupted Mycroft’s thoughts. It caught Mycroft, who usually heard her approach from a mile away, off guard. He might have jumped a little in his seat. He dropped his hands from his face, raised his eyebrows, leaned back in his chest, and inhaled deeply from his noise just to gather the pieces of himself back together. He took a moment to look at Anthea and silently glue as many pieces of himself in place before reacting. She’d caught him at an inopportune time. How was he going to put up his walls and facades when his core being was barely held together?

 “Oh, hello dear.” Mycroft’s shakily pulled his lips into a polite smile but it didn’t feel right. It felt wrong and off and Anthea could clearly see that. His brain wasn’t ready for those expressions yet, it was preoccupied with the rhythm of the hummingbird’s heart. Anthea used her thumbs to gesture over one shoulder to the door awkwardly.

 “It’s 4.30.” She drawled like she was walking carefully upon eggshells. “I’m leaving in an hour and wanted to see if you’re coming with me.” Look at her. Such a tough woman being so careful around him. How did he find someone who was good at both? To be his assistant, not his partner. That was not planned.

 “Oh.” Was all Mycroft could say at first. He cleared his throat to give his brain a few more seconds. Not enough time. Three quick, small nods gave him a few more seconds. “Yes, yes, of course.” Anthea nodded at his answer.

Anthea looked down at the desk and Mycroft knew immediately that she was looking for the DVD. He felt like he was caught red handed doing something wrong. Her eyes landed on the cover that sat on top of Mycroft’s open files in front of him. No this was more like when he was six and Mummy caught him reading one of the ‘off limits’ books under his bed.

_Mummy…_

_She most likely considers that one of the early signs that you were going to be nothing but trouble._

This was no time to wallow about the state of his family. That could wait until he next went to the Diogenes Club. That was the best place for brief moments of self-pity.

Anthea swallowed her breath. She grabbed at her thumb with the other hand. She was nervous. She wanted to question him about it but was fearful to do so. Fearful because of Mycroft. He was aware of that but could do nothing to change it. He was just as afraid to talk about it for his life to fall apart around him… more so.

 “Have you, um…” Anthea, unbeknownst to herself, winced. “Had a moment to watch the recording yet?” The natural inflection of the human voice doubled, Anthea’s voice peaking at the end. Ah yes. She had caught him indeed. Yes, of course he’d watched the video of her child. His heart argued with his entire body at the thought of it, causing pain to all the nearby organs and muscles. He saw the greatest thing and the worst thing. He’d seen everything he didn’t want and couldn’t deserve. What was he supposed to say? He smirked at himself bitterly. What a weak person he was. A better man would have stepped up immediately. Even those who run away from their responsibilities were better men than he. He was too weak to do either.

 “Ah, yes.” Mycroft’s hand automatically drifted to press eject. “I have.” He raised his eyebrows, looking like the cat that stole the milk. He put the DVD back in its cover. Why did he do that exactly? Anthea rubbed at her neck and cocked her head to the side.

 “And, any thoughts?” She prompted Mycroft for more. Thoughts? Only an infinite amount of thoughts. She wanted a summary? How to explain? Mycroft exhaled through his nose and laughed silently to himself. How could one summarise all that? That small creature that existed despite all odds.

Mycroft stared at the blank monitor and cocked his head to the side. If he looked carefully he could still see the image on the screen, projected from his thoughts. He liked to imagine that it was already developing Anthea’s nose. If it were lucky it would be a carbon copy of her. If it were really lucky it would get compassion from his parents. He and Anthea could be cold, but Mummy and Father loved their daughter despite everything. There was the capability for such good hidden in his and Anthea’s combined gene pool.

He needed to give Anthea an answer, didn’t he? Not continue to daydream like a fool.

 “Well,” He took a breath for a last chance to think of what to say. “You know what they say.” That summarised it, did it not? Mrs. Baker had put it best. No better way to describe it than completely different.

 “You’ve seen one and you’ve seen them all?” Anthea crinkled her nose, teasing Mycroft with his own words. Mycroft smiled, he couldn’t help it. Anthea and her comedic timing. She thought she was so funny. What would he do without it?

 “That is one of the things _they_ say, yes…” He replied a little sombrely. That’s not the one he intended to bring to Anthea’s mind. He could not blame her for thinking he meant that, of course. Who’d expect him to mean the other?

Anthea looked puzzled for a passing moment then her wry smile returned.

 “Thank you for your… input.” Mycroft smiled back. She was an idiot sometimes. Sometimes it was just what he needed.

Anthea walked out of the office with more confidence than she’d had a few moments ago. She was stunning when she exuded humour and confidence like that. She was like a bright spark in a gloomy environment. What would he do without _that_?

* * *

 

Mycroft should have spent that last hour doing work and packing up. He should have done as much paperwork as possible so that tomorrow could be a paperwork free day for the most part. He should have but he didn’t, he couldn’t.

Mycroft kept thinking about Anthea.

He kept thinking about that baby.

It was just like its mother, wasn’t it? Coming into his life as this beautiful creature and destroying everything. Taking away everything he ever thought he wanted with a crinkled nose or a strong heartbeat. Tearing his heart into pieces without even knowing they were doing it because he was supposed to have no heart.

Anthea was lucky, in a way. She was never opposed to children and she viewed this as her chance. She was going to love this child with her whole being and the child would love her back. She would be a great mother too and set a fantastic example for them. A hard working, smart woman with a high paying job and adored her child. Who could set a better example of what was possible?

Ugh. Children. Mycroft didn’t understand it. Why human babies were so weak and dependant. They even needed assistant to throw up on occasions. They were filthy creatures that couldn’t even get clean without assistances from an adult. He hated them. Except Hope, and Rosie was okay if he didn’t have to hold her.

He had all these thoughts and yet when he pictured Anthea doing it all it didn’t seem as bad. Anthea could make bathing a baby look sophisticated. She had perfected the messy look years ago that being woken up many times a night would look like just another night time on her. She would find humour in a lot of the horrible moments of raising a child.

She was a beautiful creature. Aesthetically, sure, but Mycroft barely thought about that. She was an incredible person always willing to learn and laugh, and with such patience and understanding. Mycroft hated that he was so infatuated with her that the thought of living without her terrified him to know end. At the same time he loved it because he loved how she made him feel.

Not only did that child deserve the world, so did Anthea. Mycroft might not be able to deliver that but he could do something to let Anthea know he appreciated her. It was the least he could do at a time like this.

* * *

 

At five thirty Mycroft shut down his computer, locked away anything imported and picked up the DVD still sitting on his desk. He left his office to find Anthea. She was sitting at her desk texting away – a normal sight for the end of the day. Her hair was falling in her face and her lips were parted just a little. No doubt she was talking to James or his wife. No one but them got that much of her undivided attention.

Anthea looked up from her phone to smile kindly at Mycroft. Finishing her text message in one hand she managed to pick up her hand back and briefcase in the other and stand up flawlessly. She could teach classes in professional texting and multitasking. It was just another example of why she deserved the world. The DVD case was beginning to feel like it was burning his hand.

 “I’ve organised for some groceries to arrive at the house when we do.” He told her in his usual tone of voice and held out the DVD case in front of them both. His tone was a safeguard against all his ridiculous feelings as of late. “I’ve decided to cook you dinner tonight.” Anthea looked up from her phone, a sceptical expression written all over her features, particularly her eyebrows. She then saw the DVD. She took it from him carefully like it was just as dangerous to her. She then looked at him, still unsure of him.

 “Why?” She asked, her suspicions all too clear. Mycroft clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes. Was she questioning his motives? How dare she? Why should he have a reason to do something nice for her?

 “Anthea,” He chided. “You are the one who has been talking incessantly about how you wish to start eating healthier for your health and your child’s health. As someone with a history of weight issues I know a plethora of balanced food items that can be prepared quickly and easily at home.” How was that for a reason? Had she forgotten that he tended to listen to her and stored away all the information he could. Really, she should know better than to question him. Anthea only frowned more.

 “I told you that because we were talking.” She said. “And it’s my problem, not yours. I don’t want to force you into anything you don’t want to do.”

_Ah._

_So it’s your own bloody fault she questions your motives._

_Congratulations._

Mycroft looked off to the side of the room.

But... She wasn’t forcing him into anything. He wanted to do this. He wanted to do it for her and… His brain shut down the thought.

He turned back to Anthea. He looked her over carefully as he tried to think of a way to communicate how he was feeling to her.

 “It’s fine.” He said. Anthea’s frown turned into more of an amused quirked eyebrow.

 “You really feel like cooking tonight?” She asked in disbelief.

 “No.” Mycroft sneered. “But I would like to do this for you.” He tried his best to sound truthful and speak openly. “Please.” He looked at her poignantly. Anthea pouted her lips, her eyes narrowing on his face. She was trying to work him out. She was trying to see what angle he was coming from and why he was doing these things. If anyone could work it out she could, and if she did work it out it would be kind of her to tell him too. Anthea shrugged.

 “Okay.” She peeped. “I love when people cook for me.” She looked at his chest then took a step towards him. He heard her take a breath through her nose before she looked up into his eyes. “Especially when it’s you.” Oh, how he hated and loved her at the same time.

 “See? Was that so hard to accept graciously?” On instinct alone his hand raised and went to touch her face. He caught himself and stopped. Was this appropriate? Should he be caressing Anthea at a time like this? Oh, but she started it, and how he hated to love her… He let himself do it. Mycroft stroked Anthea’s hair out of her face with his thumb and the brunette woman leaned into the touch, revelling in it. See, why was that so bad?

 “Everything with you comes with strings attached.” She teased in a soft, love fuelled voice. Her expression was wry and naughty. Mycroft chuckled.

 “Yes but sometimes those strings are mutually beneficial.” He teased back, he couldn’t help it. It was one of the benefits to having an assistant who thought they were funny.

 “You’re so weird.” Anthea rolled her eyes. “I love it.” That was the pot calling the kettle black. She was peculiar in her own way and he sort of loved it, too. Dear God, her child had no chance at being society’s definition of normal.

**Author's Note:**

> So? How was it? Was it okay? I really hope I didn’t let you down with this! I worry every time I do a Myc POV chapter. Let me know all your thoughts and feelings. Did it change your opinions on the original? Thank you to everyone reading this, particularly those of you who have been around for quite some time. You guys are the best. Thank you!


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